The Greatest Disc Golf Story Ever Told | by Disc Golf Comedy
175Okay keep the camera Steady, Ed, I'm gonna tell you the Greatest Disc Golf Story Ever Told...
Once upon an Albert Tamm, I was fishing in the Crazy John Brooks, but hadn’t caught any Andrew Fish that were very Garrett Gurthie, and was getting more frustrated with every Nikko Locastro.
Also I wish someone Coda Hatfield warned me about the AJ Risley bear prowling around, but it still Greg Hosfeld great just to be out there.
About that time my sister rang the Matt Bell for lunch, which meant I needed to Christina Linthicum home, so I Alex Russled up my gear and started to Ken Climo the big hill back to our Zach Arlinghaus.
When I had walked about ½ a Miles Seaborn, I came up to the Zoe AnDyke and heard a huge Ellen Widboom like someone had just Tom Schot off a Missy Gannon.
Well turns out Harold Duvall it was was someone shooting their double Anthony Barela shotgun at a Stork Roddick on the other side of the Vanessa Van Dyken, but it flew off and went to Henna Blomroos in a Kyle Crabtree.
But I needed to get Sarah Hokom so I picked up my Dave Dunipace as I was Kevin Jonesin to get back for lunch. Meals with my family are something I Joe Rovere, and I can’t tell you what would Marty Hapner if I missed out on the Terry Rothlisbergers with a honey Cameron Colglazier we were having. So I Andrew Presnelled on.
But then I came to a fallen Eric Oakley tree that was Paul Ulibarring the path, and when I tried to jump over it one of the Logan Bowers caught my Grady Shue and I fell flat on my Jeff Faes.
So now my leg’s stuck, I’ve torn my Adam Hammes, and my arm had landed in a patch of Jessica Weese and was covered in Chris Dickerson stuff.
On top of all that, I would have bet a Matt Dollar I had dropped a Seppo Paju in my brand new Cale Leiviskas and made a Cam Messerschmidt.
The Greatest Disc Golf Story Ever Told
And listen Brodie Smith, just you Philo Brathwaite. There’s much Callie McMorran this is the Paul McBethd part.
I didn’t know if I had the Brian Earhart to go on, but I knew I was too Heather Young to die. Still, my positive, upbeat attitude was really Zach Melton.
But as I was laying there, and I’m NOT making this up, okay? I consider myself a good Christian Deitrich–I’d never touch the Andrew Marwede–and lying is something I wouldn’t Justin Bilodeau.
So as I’m laying there, I hear the Paige Piercing cry of an Eagle McMahon that emerged out of a sunbeam and landed next to me. It looked my right in my KJ Nybo, which made my heart Luke Humphries, and it said, “Be the Hailey King that I Noah Meintsma you are.”
I took that as a Paul Oman that I was gonna be a Joel Freeman soon and that nothing would Tim Barham my way.
At that point, I was Des Reading to get out of there (and you’d be surprised the Kyle Klein of motivation you can get when your legs stuck with a Josh Anthon it trying to bite your Stancil Johnson).
So I took Ezra Aderhold of my Ricky Wysocki and pulled as hard as I could, it Holly Finley came John Houck of the Paige Shue, and I half limped / half Madison Walkered the rest of the way home.
Sadly, my mom had decided to Lisa Fajkus out and make Brian Schwebergers…but when life gives you Chris Clemons, ya know? I let out a sad Simon Lizotte and started to Mike Moser over to the table when my mom told my sister, “Hey be a Nathan Queen and Austin Hannum the soap. He’s filthy and I’m worried about Big Jerms.”
After I’d eaten a bit, I was feeling Dave Greenwell enough to talk about what had happened, and I knew I Devan Owens them an explanation for my Kristin Tattard clothes. My sister thought the story was James Conrad, but my mom called me a Spacey Casey White and said I was lucky I wasn’t at the James Proctor’s Office right now.
Just then my dad got home and made quite an entrance as he tripped over the Welcome Matt Orum and kicked the Cat Allen into my Drew Gibson guitar. I think he Dave Feldberg a little sorry for me, because he said, “Why don’t we all go play disc golf Tom Monroe morning?” which Nate Perkins’d me right up.
So let me finish this Jalle Stoory by saying that Disc Golf is the greatest game ever, because for one thing, it keeps people from sittin around on their Valerie Doss all day, Nate Sexton each other and what not, and gets them out in nature, where they can Barry Schultz their problems and just breathe in the Reid Frescura air.
Emerson Keith name drops in that story huh? My sister wrote it, and I didn’t want to Jordan Castro too wide of a net, but I told her Shasta Criss cross at least 100 names off the list before I’d let her Steve Rico home.
If this story made you smile, share it with someone else who might appreciate it. Alright I’m Eveliina Salonen off!
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